• Moultrie

  • From the south end of the block, a teenager turns onto Moultrie riding a bicycle that’s too small. He stops in the yellow street below. His black tank top hangs loose at his sides as he directs the front wheel toward the light pole rising at my left. Standing flat-footed and straddling the bike, he looks up into the halogen then crosses himself and sends a kiss toward the sky. Looking quickly over his shoulders—left, right—he does it all again. I step back, concerned that he noticed me, and lose sight as he starts again.

    After a moment of standing still, hidden behind the roof’s edge, I step forward to see him pedal away. He turns the corner at the end of Moultrie and disappears.